


A Good Subordinate

by hiyoris_scarf



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Role Reversal, shameless use of fandom one-liners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:51:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiyoris_scarf/pseuds/hiyoris_scarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Role reversal AU. Riza Hawkeye is the Flame Alchemist and Roy Mustang is her faithful lieutenant. In the battle against Lust, Roy realizes exactly what it means to lose the one thing that keeps him standing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Subordinate

“I think I was about to send the lieutenant to join his superior.”

The words dropped casually from Lust’s mouth, like she was simply checking off everything on her to-do list and was getting ready to pick up some coffee on the way home. To Roy, they marked the exact second his universe imploded.

It took him a few moments to fully understand what the homunculus was implying. She had said something about being forced to kill another promising candidate…and when the lab had been shaken by that earlier explosion…every implication dropped into place.

“You’re lying,” he ground out, stepping around Alphonse’s metal body to face Lust.

“I can assure you I’m not,” she purred.

“Stand back, lieutenant!” implored Alphonse, as he clapped his hands together to transmute a weapon.

Before he could raise the crude spear, it was sliced into thirds in his hands. Al’s armored body was suddenly pinned with several long, needle-thin lances that sprang from the tips of Lust’s fingers. The metal screeched as she impaled him through his chest and arm.

“There, that ought to get some of the blood off,” the homunculus noted in a satisfied tone.

Turning back to Roy, she looked him over in amusement. He stood, still frozen in shock.

“Hawkeye wouldn’t let something like _you_ kill her.”

He was convinced the creature was trying to deceive him. Of course it was all a trick.

Lust opened the hand that wasn’t still restraining Alphonse, offering it palm-up so Roy could see what it contained. Several scraps of white fabric, with a familiar transmutation circle inscribed on the intact bits, drifted to the floor as she turned that hand over and smirked at his dumbstruck expression.

“What’ll it take to convince you, pretty boy?”

What was left of Hawkeye’s glove came to rest on the concrete floor, and that was when Roy started shooting.

He couldn’t remember grabbing the gun, or aiming it at anything in particular, but he did know that the sooner this evil woman started screaming in agony, the sooner he could drown out the hideous reality that Hawkeye was gone.

The first bullet bored a hole in the center of her forehead, the next two punched through the ouroboros tattoo on her chest. Sparks danced from the wounds, resealing them in seconds.

Lust staggered backwards a couple steps, her spears breaking free from Al’s body. She looked down at her punctured skin in mild surprise. Roy’s empty gun clicked as he slammed his finger repeatedly against the trigger, and the homunculus’ poisonous laugh was the only thing louder than the ringing in his ears.

_“I’ll kill you! I’ll KILL YOU!”_

The scream tore its way out of his throat, and red spots peppered his vision as he ripped two more guns from their holsters, firing blindly. Roy’s pinpoint accuracy was a casualty of his rage, the concrete walls cracking in a few places where his shots missed their mark.

“You’re just making this harder on yourself,” she crooned, absorbing the spent bullets into her skin and striding towards him as he paused to grab the last of his weapons.

“Lieutenant, please!!”

Al’s supplication went ignored.

Roy had to keep his hands steady, he needed to empty every ounce of his pain into Lust’s impervious body.

_BANG._ Through her neck.

_BANG. BANG._ Two more into her chest.

_BANG._ Between her eyes. The crimson sparks danced in her irises and made her appear demonic, her grin widening as she poised her fingers to strike.

Roy’s last few shots echoed in the huge space, and the clicks of the empty chamber were magnified tenfold.

“Time’s up.”

He heard her spears whistle towards him, and the gun dropped from his hand. He didn’t bother trying to move.

“Lieutenant! Get out of the way!”

Something huge and heavy flashed in front of him before Lust’s spears could reach their target. Al’s armor was pushed back several feet when he was once again impaled, and he crashed into Roy, sending the lieutenant flying backward to sprawl on the hard ground.

“Alphonse.” Roy’s voice cracked when he regained his breath. His vision was swimming, and the suit of armor in front of him wavered like a ghost.

“Get out of here, lieutenant! Get up, please!”

“Leave me here.”

“No—I’m not going anywhere without you! No more people are going to die here if I have anything to do with it!”

The boy’s frustration was clearly evident, but Roy just couldn’t move. Why would he even want to? It was too much effort to think about running away when his life had already ended. Something wet slid down his face and splashed onto his knee.

_“I completely agree.”_

A new voice issued from the open doorway behind Lust, and Alphonse gasped.

For what felt like an eternal second, Roy waited for what he was hearing to make sense. _That_ was a voice he should never hear again.

Leaning to look around Al’s legs, he saw, braced against the doorframe, a sincerely pissed off, and _very_ much alive, Riza Hawkeye.

Lust pivoted, sucking in a surprised breath.

“You’re not—”

“No, I’m _not_ dead, you bitch.”

And she flicked the lighter in her right hand.

A column of flame consumed Lust’s body, but Roy’s view was immediately blocked by the thick wall Al transmuted to shield them from the superheated gusts of air.

The stomach-turning smell of boiling flesh, mixed with the tortured screams of the dying homunculus, lasted far longer than Roy thought they should. If it weren’t for Al’s steel arm gripped around his chest, he would have thrown himself past the barrier to make sure Hawkeye wasn’t causing herself any more harm. He was still confused as to why she was able to use flame alchemy when her gloves were ripped up, and even more confused as to how she was alive at all.

But one thing was certain: there was no way in hell he was running away now.

The screams stopped after what was probably less than a minute, though it felt more like hours. The surrounding air was thick and hot, dotted with floating ash. Roy heard a muted thump as something fell to the floor, and he wrenched himself out of Al’s grip to dart around the wall.

All that remained of Lust the Lascivious was a tiny stone sphere, which, as he watched, disintegrated into nothingness. Next to where the stone had disappeared, he saw the colonel, now collapsed on her back.

He was at her side in half a second, searching her face for a sign of life.

“Colonel!”

Her forehead contorted with pain, and Roy saw that the hand that wasn’t holding the lighter was pressing a wound on her abdomen. Probably where Lust had stabbed her, he realized. And on her other hand was a small transmutation circle, carved by memory through her own skin. Incredible.

“Colonel, are you all right?”

Al crouched down, concerned, on Hawkeye’s other side. Her eyes fluttered open, gaze flickering dazedly around before eventually fixing on Roy’s face.

“Oh, good, you’re okay.”

“Of course I am! We need to get you to a doctor!”

She turned her head slightly toward Alphonse, wincing with the movement.

“Thank you for making sure the lieutenant stayed safe.”

“Yeah, it was no problem. But please, stop talking and let us get you some help!”

Al stood up again and clanked off to find assistance. Roy stayed by his superior’s side to watch every labored rise and fall of her breath, wondering how stupid he could have been to think that something as trivial as a homunculus would have a chance against this woman.

* * *

He was stupid to think that _he_ had a chance against her either. Even hospital-ridden, Riza Hawkeye was fully capable of delivering a tongue-lashing that could reduce officers twice her rank to weeping puddles on the floor.

“Mustang, you _idiot!”_

He stood at obedient attention, feeling his ears begin to burn under her incensed glare.

“You gave up?! Just like _that_? I need to know you won’t _ever_ do that again, lieutenant. Not only is it irresponsible, but it reflects badly on _me_.”

His fists clenched.

“I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

“You’d better keep that promise.”

She sighed, and leaned back against the pillows.

“I need to know you can still watch my back,” she uttered, much more quietly.

Her fingers worked the hospital sheet, and it hit him how worried she was that he might lose control like that again—perhaps at a time when she really _wouldn’t_ be around to save his ass.

Squaring his shoulders, he cleared his throat and nodded curtly.

“Sir.”

She stared up at him, seeking something in his eyes. Apparently satisfied with his candor, she gave the smallest of smiles.

“Good enough, lieutenant. At least you didn’t cry over me.”

Her tone was lighter, joking, so he forced the corners of his mouth upwards. A good subordinate follows orders, even the unspoken ones.

“That really would have been useless, wouldn’t it, colonel?”


End file.
